Cheryl and Samuel at 323 Harper's Cove

by Deanndra Hall

  “Oh, I can see how that could be. No, that secret is safe with me. But is it okay if I tell My Master? We don’t have secrets from each other.”

  “Yes. Just please ask him to―”

  “He would never say anything. He’s the most honorable of men.” The smile she gives me is warm and brilliant, and she says, “I’m so glad I decided to come here. Can I tell the others that they’re welcome to come and talk to you if they want?”

  “You certainly may. I’m here for anyone who needs me.” About that time there’s a sound in the hallway and Samuel appears in my doorway.

  “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t know―”

  “It’s okay. Samuel, this is Becca Henderson. She and her husband, Greg, live right down the street.” She extends her hand to him, and Samuel takes it and grips it warmly. I watch as her face lights up again.

  “Yes, down in three fourteen.”

  “Nice to meet you, Becca. I trust you’re well?”

  “I’m fine, quite fine.” With that, she stands. “Thanks so much for your time, Reverend Danvers.”

  “Please, it’s Cheryl. And stop by anytime. The house too. I mean it. You’re always welcome, you and Greg both.”

  Her eyes are soft and sweet, and she bows her head and blushes just a little. “Same for us. I should get going. Dinner to fix. Have a lovely evening and thanks again.”

  “Same to you. Careful going home,” I call behind her.

  “Nice lady.” Samuel takes our sandwiches out of the bag and hands me mine before unwrapping his. “Having a problem?”

  “Yeah. Gloria.”

  His eyebrows pop up. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Snooping.”

  “As in criminal snooping?”

  “Pretty much.” One bite in and I groan. “Oh, god, these are so good.” We chew in silence and, finally, I say just out of the blue, “I miss Megan so much.”

  “And I miss Daniel.” When he gets his bite of sandwich swallowed, he says, “Cheryl, what are we going to do? We can’t go on like this forever. I mean, I love you like a sister, but it’s just not the same.”

  “I know. I really don’t know what to do.”

  “Have you thought about some other vocation?”

  I snort. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”

  “Me too.” His face is glum. “Since I was a little kid.” But a smile starts to creep across his face. “Well, that and a ballet dancer.”

  “No kidding? Really?”

  He nods and laughs. “Oh, yeah. I wanted to be Mikhail!”

  “Can you dance? Did you take lessons?”

  There’s a fit of laughter. “No and no! Can you see me asking my parents for ballet lessons?”

  His parents still can’t come to grips with the fact that he’s gay. “No. I can’t. I can’t imagine your parents going for that.”

  “Yeah. Eat your sandwich. I want to get done with my stuff and go home.”

  When the sandwiches are gone, we clean up my desk and he goes back to his little office next door. I sit and stare out the window for at least fifteen minutes. I wish there was some way I could make things work, but I just can’t.

  10

  Gloria

  “You know what I think I’m going to do?”

  Russell finally looks up from his paper. “No, and I’m afraid you’re going to tell me.”

  “I think I’m going to go talk to Reverend Cheryl about what’s going on around this neighborhood.”

  “Gloria, you really need to leave it alone.”

  “I can’t do that and you know it.” Well, it’s true―I can’t.

  “The neighbors, the bottle … you can’t leave anything alone, can you?”

  Now I’m just really ticked off. “Look, I tried to talk to her over the phone, but it didn’t do any good. Maybe if I go to her office I can pin her down, get her to listen to me.” Then I add, “It would be nice if you’d help me.”

  “Ohhhhh, no. I’m not getting involved in this. Count me OUT.” I try to say something else but he says, “Ignoring you, Gloria. I’ll have no part in this.”

  I guess if no one else will do it I’ll have to.

  After dinner, I sit down and make some notes about what I want to say to her. She’s just got to listen to me. I mean, if I were her, I’d want to know what’s going on down the street, all the vile, nasty things they’re doing. Just think of all the kids in the neighborhood. It’ll warp them for life if they ever find out. And people like that can’t keep it to themselves forever, no they can’t. They want to strut around and let everyone know how perverse they are. It’ll all come out and the neighborhood will be ruined.

  I’ve got my notes all finished when I head to bed. Before I even get halfway down the hallway, I can hear Russell snoring. He sounds like a chainsaw. I don’t know how I ever get any sleep. As I brush my teeth, I think about all the things I’ve seen in the last few months around here. I should be having nightmares.

  Maybe I should have a little of that peppermint schnapps. I’ve run out of mouthwash.

  11

  Cheryl

  “How was your day?” I guess it was the way I threw everything down on the sofa that made Samuel ask me that.

  “You won’t believe it.” I drop down into one of the recliners. “Another one came in today.”

  “Another what?”

  “No, another who. Karen Reynolds. She lives down at three twenty-six. She came in today to talk to me about that Livingston woman.”

  “That bad?”

  “Oh, yeah. That bad. But the one thing we’re pretty sure of is that she’s not going around the neighborhood talking about Neighbor A to Neighbor B.”

  Samuel sits in silence for a few seconds, then asks, “Wonder who she’s talking to?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea. Apparently no one because she thinks everyone is doing something despicable. And if she talks to one, it would give another ideas maybe? I don’t know. I don’t think like that, so I have no clue.”

  “Thank goodness.” He pops up. “Want a drink?”

  “Nah,” I answer with a shake of my head. “I don’t think so. Have you talked to Daniel?”

  “Yeah. They’ll be here in about thirty minutes. Dinner out tonight. Oh, and they invited Winston and Charles over.”

  I love Winston and Charles. They’re so much fun. “Great! Maybe I should call Marlene and Deidre.”

  “That would be a lot of fun. Yeah, do. You call Marlene and Deidre, and we’ll ask all of them to join us for dinner. What do you think?”

  “Excellent plan.” I haven’t seen Marlene and Deidre in probably six weeks. We all try to be so careful, but I’m about ready for some fun.

  “Right this way.” The host at Avant-Garde leads us through the large dining room to a smaller, cozier room off to the right. It faces the beach, and the view is utterly amazing. Once we’re seated, he passes out our menus and we get down to business. We love this place; it’s down in the artsy part of town, and it’s frequented by a lot of the more open-minded individuals who live around here. It’s unfortunate that Samuel, Daniel, Megan, and I still can’t be very open about our relationships, but at least the other two couples with us can. And it doesn’t hurt that the food is excellent.

  We’re about halfway through dinner when Charles says, “Oooo, I know! Let’s go dancing!”

  Samuel’s quick with, “And where would we do that?”

  “Let’s go to Beedee’s! No one there would know us, and it would be fun to just be able to hang out, dance, cut loose a little!”

  “That place is awesome,” Deidre gushes.

  “I don’t know―” Megan starts.

  “Oh, it’ll be fine!” Daniel interrupts. “We don’t ever do things like that.”

  And next thing I know, I find myself at the door to the club. The doorman looks Samuel and me up and down. “This is a gay club.”

  “Oh, we know,” Samuel says. “We’re not a couple. We just happened to walk up this way.” He reaches f
or Daniel’s hand and pulls him up close. “This is my boyfriend.”

  The doorman still gives us the suspicious eye, but he just nods and snorts, “Okay,” before he lets all eight of us in the door. It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust, and then I take a good, long look around and start to laugh.

  The place looks like it’s trapped in the 70s. There’s all kinds of psychedelic bubble-lettered writing around on the walls, and there’s a girl in go-go boots and a fringed outfit dancing in a big cage like something straight off of some goofy 70s variety show. I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe when I hear Samuel mutter, “Oh, my god, how bourgeois!” That makes me laugh even harder.

  “Ah, home sweet home!” Winston sings out. He always looks like a creepy, lascivious university professor during the sexual revolution, so he fits in very well there. “Let’s go get something to drink and scope out the place.”

  And it’s quite the place too. I’m not having any luck deciding what I want to do until they crank up the Village People’s “YMCA.” Then I get all excited. Wow! It’s so cliché that it’s perfect. “Come on! Let’s go!” I yell over the din to Megan as I grab her hand and drag her out onto the dance floor. The guys are already rushing out to get in line, and Marlene and Deidre follow us out.

  When we’re finished with that, they drag out a stick and start doing the limbo. Okay, that’s a little over the top even for me. We’ve been there for about an hour when I ask, “Hey, where’s the restroom?”

  “Right back there,” Daniel calls over the music, and I press my way through the crowd to get to the back. Oddest part of all, there’s one huge bathroom for everyone, no ladies’ or men’s rooms, just a big, huge restroom. There’s a section in the back that has a door, and I’m sure that’s where the glory holes are, so in some ways this is a typical club. And there’s some moaning coming from back there, so it’s obvious that at least one of the stalls is occupied.

  When I’m finished washing my hands and head back out to the rest of the group, I get the shock of my life. One of my deacons, Lance Parker, is sitting at a table with a guy I’ve never seen before. And this is not a friendly get-together, no―it’s clearly a date.

  Oh, and did I mention he’s one of my married deacons? No? Didn’t think so. Just as I think I’ll walk on past him, he looks up and catches my eye. Shit! What now? is all my brain can scream. He manages to stammer out, “Reverend Cheryl?”

  “Hi!” I try to be as nonchalant as I can manage, but that’s really, really difficult. “Good to see you! Having a good time?”

  “Um, yeah. Uh, where’s Reverend Samuel?”

  I turn and point to our table, where Samuel and Daniel are engaged in some serious kissing. “Right over there.” He glances back, takes in the sight, then gives me the most confused look I think I’ve ever seen. “It’s okay, really. I have no intention of saying anything to anyone.”

  Sweat is practically dripping off his upper lip when he sighs and says, “Oh, okay. Thanks. I mean, really―”

  “Not my place to judge,” I assure him.

  He snickers at me. “Yeah, I guess not, huh?” I don’t like that response very much. There’s no need for him to be snotty and mean-spirited about it.

  I extend the olive branch. “If you want to talk sometime, just come by the office. My door is always open.”

  There’s a split second there when I think he’ll probably tell me to go fuck myself, but then he smiles. “I may just do that. Thanks. Buy you a drink?”

  “Oh, no, that’s not necessary, but thanks for the offer. I hope you have a good evening,” I tell him and wander away. I can feel him and the other guy staring at me from behind, but I just keep walking. When I get back to the table, I pinch Samuel’s leg under the tabletop and he stops kissing Daniel to look at me.

  “What? What was that for?”

  “Look right over there and smile and wave.” I point to the table where Lance and his friend are sitting.

  Samuel looks like he’s about to have a stroke. Through a smile hiding gritted teeth he hisses, “Seriously? Are you kidding? Oh my god. We’re screwed.”

  “Nah. I think it’s fine.” I take another big drink.

  “What’s fine?” Megan asks.

  “That guy over there, the one in the burgundy coat?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s one of my deacons.”

  She leans back and forth to get a good look, and then her eyes go wide. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “That guy he’s with?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Did he introduce you?”

  “Nope.”

  She shakes her head. “He’s a teacher at our school.”

  “No! You’re not serious?”

  She punches Daniel in the ribs. “Danny, look!” When she points to the man, Daniel’s face goes white.

  “Oh my god. Who’s he with?”

  She lets out a laugh and says, “One of Cheryl’s deacons!”

  Every muscle in his face relaxes from its previously bunched-up state. “Way to go, Cheryl,” he says and fist-bumps me.

  “Yay me,” I reply with a smirk. At this point, Samuel’s in the middle of everything and gawking like there’s no tomorrow.

  By the time we leave, I’m over it. Lance isn’t going to say a damn thing, and if his friend saw Megan and Daniel, he isn’t going to say anything either. Winston and Charles say goodbye, and so do Marlene and Deidre, and we all promise to get together again soon. There’s lots of talk on the way back home about where we went and what we did, and how much we enjoyed not only the evening but the company of the other two couples.

  I plop down onto the sofa, exhausted. “That was fun, but I’m so tired that I can’t think.”

  “Me too.” Megan is pulling off her shoes. “I got up really early this morning.”

  “We’re headed to bed,” Samuel calls out as he starts down the hallway. Daniel’s already disappeared into the bedroom.

  “Okay. Night,” Megan calls back, then gives me a look. “So, popcorn and a movie?”

  “Oh, yeah, popcorn and a movie.” In just a few minutes, the smell of the white, fluffy kernels fills the entire house, and we rip open the bag, pour it into a big bowl, get our drinks, and head down the hallway.

  I open the door to find Samuel’s cock buried down Daniel’s throat. They both look over and see us, but otherwise, they ignore us. Megan and I settle down on the sofa in the big bedroom, snuggled together and chomping on the popcorn. Finally, Samuel says, “Popcorn? Really? I should sell tickets.”

  “You should. Best show in town.”

  “True. We look pretty damn good together,” he crows.

  “It’s true. You do,” Megan adds.

  This is better than any gay porn I could ever watch, and Daniel has some premium suction going on. As Megan and I crunch on the popcorn, Samuel groans out, “Oh, yeah, baby, suck my cock. Yeah, just like that. Ohhhhhh, suck it, yeah.” There’s no way to miss the look on Daniel’s face―pure bliss. When he starts to deep-throat Sam, he wraps his hands around Sam’s hips and really goes to work, his head barely bobbing. But I know what he’s doing. He’s swallowing. And that swallowing action around Sam’s cock head is driving him wild. In just a matter of minutes we watch as he throws his head back and when he yells out, “Oh, baby, swallow it all down!” we know he’s done.

  But they’re not done, and I get goosebumps when Daniel tells Samuel, “Down on your back, baby. My turn.” I have to admit, if I weren’t a lesbian, I’d be very jealous. Daniel is hung, and I mean porn star-like hung. Huge. Once he’s gotten a condom rolled on and he’s lubed up both his own cock and Sam’s asshole, he hooks his arms under Sam’s legs and pulls them upward, then slides in slowly. When he’s in up to his balls, he grins down at Samuel. Daniel pulls back, then pressed back into Samuel and moans out, “Oh, baby, so damn tight! Yeah.”

  I lean in to Megan and whisper, “Does this turn you on?”

  She winks at me a
nd whispers back, “Oddly, yeah, it does. The expressions on their faces are priceless.” And she’s right. Samuel is grimacing and stroking his own cock, his fingers wrapped tightly around it, while Daniel plows into him with gusto. Every muscle is tightened in their rock-hard bodies, and their skin glistens with a thin layer of sweat. Daniel alternates between gritting his teeth and blowing out a puff of air as he breathes harder and faster.

  I hear Samuel moan out, “Oh, god, I’m coming.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” Daniel snarls at him. “Not yet! You wait, you hear me?”

  “Oh, god, I can’t. I swear, I can’t.” Sam’s still stroking himself and, without warning, he shoots out a thick, creamy stream of cum that lands splat in the middle of his belly. His cheeks are flushed when he gazes up at Daniel and says, “See? See what you do to me? Oh, my god, stud, fuck me.”

  “You’re getting a fucking, that’s for sure,” Daniel mutters and sets out to light Sam’s asshole on fire. I’m pretty sure he’s accomplishing that too, based on the words coming from Sam’s mouth. I remember the words Samuel said to me weeks before when we were talking about bottoms and tops: There is no bottom or top in our relationship. We just do whatever feels good to us. To hell with labels. I’ll say; to hell with labels indeed.

  We watch and, when the popcorn is gone, we do some getting busy of our own. We strip off everything and scissor like mad, and I hear Daniel whisper to Samuel, “Look at the girls. They’re really going at it.” Samuel replies, but it’s something I can’t hear, and I really don’t care anyway.

  Once we’ve both climaxed, I grin over at Megan as I’m gathering up my clothes. “Bedtime?”

  “Bedtime.” I lean in and kiss her, and she tastes like blue curacao and grenadine from the hurricane she just had. I think we’re heading to our bedroom, but by the time I can take another breath, she’s managed to press me down onto their sofa and she’s devouring my lips like I’m birthday cake and she’s six. When she presses her pelvis down against mine, I wrap my hands in her hair and tug just a little. Her moaning sets off alarms all over my body and I’m beside myself with joy and desire, wanting her against me, but she keeps her hands on the sofa cushions so she’s hovering above me. “Megan, I love you so much,” I manage to whisper out.